


Rocking In The Free World

by Huntress79



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Road Trip, Amnesiac Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Bucky escapes HYDRA, Gen, Memory Loss, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:48:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26219641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Huntress79/pseuds/Huntress79
Summary: When she decided to go to upstate New York and visit the music festival there, she didn’t expect THAT to happen. Or how Bucky Barnes begins to break free of the HYDRA hold with the (involuntary) help of a pre-SHIELD Maria Hill.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Maria Hill
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16
Collections: Alternate Universe Exchange 2020





	Rocking In The Free World

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tielan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tielan/gifts).



> Written for the AU Exchange and tielan. Set in no specific timeline, though I have the late 1970s/early 1980s in mind. Maria still looks like Cobie Smulders, though. Title comes from a song by Neil Young. Hope you enjoy!

*********************

Coming to his senses, the Asset did a mental check of his surroundings. But what he did notice did nothing to quell the growing panic inside of him.

Where the heck was he?

Both the chair and the chamber he spent time between new orders in had a signature low hum to them, but both sounds were definitely missing from wherever he was right now.

Again, the question lit up in his mind - where was he?

Refocussing, the Asset could hear cars driving nearby. So, he concluded, he was at some place near a road. Judging by the frequency of cars passing, he even would guess that there was a highway close to his current location.

“Oh, hey, you’re awake.”

The Asset whirled around (and only noticed in that moment that he was sitting in a bed) - and was met with the rather curious brown eyes of a young woman standing in the doorway of what seemed to be the en-suite bathroom.

Another trick of his handlers?

Huh, a new voice piped up in his brain, where did that come from, pal?

“You okay?” the woman inquired, leaving her spot in the doorway and making her way over to the other bed in the room. Not trusting his voice, the Asset only shook his head. He was as far away from okay then he probably was from the South Pole at this moment.

She sat down at the other bed, facing him, and the Asset, more or less automatically, gave her a once-over. Light-to-dark brown hair, slender, but trained build, and a pair of brown eyes that not only showed curiosity, but also not an ounce of fear. Did she not got briefed on how dangerous he could be?

“Wanna talk about it?”

Again, the Asset only shook his head. Shouldn’t she know that no one ever talked with him, unless it was giving him his new orders?

“Okay,” she finally said when some minutes passed in silence, “I’m gonna head right across the street, there’s a little diner, to get some breakfast in this body.” She made a gesture down the front of herself. “You could come along, you know. At this time of the day, there’s usually not that much people up and around.”

For a third time, he only shook his head, knowing deep down that he just couldn’t do what he wanted. Besides, if he did go with her to this diner, he probably would only get her killed, sooner or later.

“Alright,” she concluded, not even trying to keep the disappointment out of her voice. “You okay with me bringing you some coffee and whatever they have for breakfast?”

This time, the Asset only gave her a shrug. As far as he could remember (which wasn’t that long, to start with), he never got asked about things like breakfast. All his food came either via a tube stuck in his throat or through a needle into his flesh arm.

With one last glance at him, the young woman was out of the door.

*********************

Sipping her coffee, Maria let her thoughts float back to the mysterious man in her motel room across the street. He was, hands down, a mystery wrapped in an enigma wrapped in a riddle, but somehow, she felt that, if you take away all these layers, there was an actually scared man hidden beneath. Though why he was so scared that he was, more or less, mute, she didn’t know.

“You want something to go with this coffee, sweetie?”

The soft voice of the only waitress around - Linda, according to her nametag - brought Maria back to reality, and try as she might, she couldn’t stop herself from returning the smile she got from the older woman.

“Yeah, can you recommend anything?”

“Sure thing,” the woman replied, “we have bagels, fresh from the oven; we have brownies, also freshly made; and we have apple pie. Anything’s tickling your fancy?”

Maria felt her mind racing - she already knew what she wanted for herself, but should she bring the same to the guy she picked up yesterday or not? What if he had any allergies?

“Um… yeah, I want a slice of brownie, please. With cream on top.”

“One slice of brownie coming up in a bit,” the waitress repeated, and before Maria could say anything else, she was back in the kitchen.

Once more, Maria’s mind went back to the last night, and the almost-straight-out-of-a-horror-movie encounter with the man with the metal arm.

_He literally came out of nowhere, appearing right in the middle of the street, his eyes wild. For a hot minute, Maria was torn between helping him somehow and putting her foot down on the accelerator and get the heck out of there._

_But in the end, she decided to give the man at least a lift to the next town. Upstate New York had a lot of forests, and therefore bears and other natural predators were not unheard of._

_Getting him into her car was shy of a Herculean task, and Maria had to call up every single ounce of patience she could find within her. But at long last, he finally got in and try as she might, Maria couldn’t quite suppress a deep sigh (along with a quick thanks to whatever deity was watching them at this moment)._

_According to a road sign they passed shortly afterwards, the next town was about 10 miles away, but these 10 miles should turn into the probably longest of Maria’s life so far._

_Why?_

_Because her passenger didn’t say a single word - or at least nothing that Maria was able to understand. He mumbled a few words (phrases ?), but they apparently were in a different language. One that she hadn’t picked up yet, despite her being an “army brat”, with both parents working for Uncle Sam._

_Finally, the reached the town, though Maria thought it hardly could be called a “town” - to her, it was more of a rather large village, but anyway, they had a motel, and if she needed anything right now, it was a shower, something to eat, and a bed, in whatever constellation._

_The young guy at the reception desk was distracted enough by the small TV that he didn’t ask any questions, and within a few minutes, Maria had the key to one of the, as the guy pointed out, few rooms with two seperate beds._

_Surprisingly enough, her mysterious passenger followed her into the room with next to no reluctance, dropped down on the second bed, laid back and was asleep in no time._

_Maria, on the other hand, barely slept that night, despite being very tired. Her mind was racing, making plans over plans on what she should do with the mute stranger come morning. She was supposed to meet up with some college friends and have fun at a music festival, not playing babysitter for a someone who, beneath all the deer-in-a-headlight behaviour, radiated a kind of silent lethality._

The bell over the diner door brought Maria back to reality, and she realized that she was gone quite some time from the motel. Sure, her guest could come and go as he pleased, but something told her that he actually had no real idea how to function on his own.

What on Earth had happened to this man to cause this all?

Taking a leap of faith, Maria bought a cup of simple black coffee and another slice of the brownies before heading back to the motel, grabbing a map of the region on her way out.

She barely made it into the room before she heard a loud groan coming from the bathroom. Dropping her purchases on the bed, Maria hurried over to the door (which was, thank the Lord, not locked).

Her part-time companion was huddling in the farthest corner of the small room, making himself as small as possible, his whole body shaking with heavy tremors.

What the heck was going on?

“Hey,” Maria began, putting an effort into keeping her voice even and calm, “what’s the matter?”

“My… my… head…,” the man grounded out, and even though she was barely two meters away from him, Maria had to strain her ears to hear it at all.

“You mean like a migraine?” she prompted, sitting down on the corner of the bathtub.

“No… yes… maybe,” he replied, every word said as if something really heavy was sitting on his chest.

“Ever had them before?”

“Can’t… ah… can’t remember… can’t remember anything,” the man replied with a sniff.

By now, this was the most she had heard him talking at all since she picked him up. Still, the second part of his last sentence gave Maria both the chills and made her worried. What was she supposed to do now?

“Do you want to head over to first the pharmacy and then the police…”

“NO!” he interrupted. “Can’t… can’t… have the police… knowing about me.”

“Why?”

“This,” he lifted the metal arm for emphasis, “I don’t know how or why, but… somehow… I know deep down,” he put his flesh hand on his chest, “that I did a lot of bad things with it.”

Okay, so Maria’s gut feeling from last night wasn’t that off after all. Still, she couldn’t see herself handing him over to the authorities. She had a good, basic faith in the US government, but her parents also told her to question things. And the whole “ABC soup” of government agencies was definitely something to be questioned.

The need to do anything finally took over, and so, Maria grabbed one of the super-small towels, wetted it, and approached him slowly.

“Don’t be afraid, I’m not gonna hurt you, but I would like to put this on your forehead.” She held up the towel. “It’s not a lot, but my mother has migraine attacks on a semi-regularly basis, and with that, the pain management is a little bit easier for her to handle.”

By the time she was finished, his head had dropped back against the wall, and even though he didn’t say a word, his eyes told her that it was okay for her to put the towel where she wanted. Doing so, Maria couldn’t help but smile when she heard him exhaling a sound of relief.

“Alright, I’m gonna see if I have any painkillers with me,” she told him next, “if not, I’m gonna head over back to the diner and ask for something. Okay?”

He only nodded, reveling in the deprive of pain the wet towel provided. With one last glance at him, Maria went back out in the main room and grabbed her backpack.

Maybe it was her upbringing with all the military surrounding her, or the adamancy of her mother to always have at least a basic first aid kit with her, but whatever it was, Maria couldn’t remember another instance where she was as grateful as of right now when she located the small bottle of weak analgesics.

Her companion hadn’t moved an inch when she came back to the bathroom, and in a heartbeat, he downed the offered pill with some water.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“No problem,” Maria returned, sliding down to the floor opposite him. “Still, we have to do something about your memory issues.”

“I… I have no idea what to do, to be honest.”

“Me neither, but there has to be something…”

He suddenly sat up straight, discarding the towel, and locked his gaze with hers, his breathing starting to go faster and faster.

“Woah, easy, man!” Without thinking, Maria reached over to him, taking both his hands into hers. “You gotta calm down… deep breaths,” she instructed, willing him to follow the pattern she showed him. And after a few moments, his breathing was, more or less, back to normal.

“What was that?” Maria asked, incredulity lacing her voice.

“Images,” he replied, his voice hoarse. “It was like a dam or so broke up here,” he lightly tapped the side of his head, “and I think I just got overwhelmed with all of them.”

“Anything you recognize?”

“Maybe.” He closed his eyes again. “I saw a guy, blonde. Actually, there were three of them, but I don’t know if these are one and the same guy, at different stages in life, or three seperate ones.” A deep breath. “Blood, mayhem, chaos. The scope of a rifle. A head exploding. Destruction. A rather small man, with round glasses. He’s trying to say something to me, but I can’t make out what it is.”

“That’s… that’s good, I think,” Maria encouraged. Maybe they could unearth who he was after all.

“I think so, too. And I think I was, at some point, in Brooklyn.”

“Like being there for a visit or like living there?”

He gave a shrug. “No idea, but I feel it’s more the latter.” A sigh. “Sorry, it’s just a mumble-jumble right now in my head, and I don’t make a lot of sense, right?”

“Yeah, but then again, there’s a lot in this world that doesn’t make any sense to anyone as well,” Maria quipped, hoping to lighten the mood, even for a fraction. The (still pained) smile she received for her attempt was all she could ask for.

*********************

Over the course of the next few days, Maria and her companion drove around the state, trying to trigger anything at all in his brain.

Bits of his memory returned, but so far, it wasn’t even nearly enough to give him at least his identity back. And so, Maria suggested that, for the time being, he had to choose a “new” name for himself.

They discussed a literal ton of names, but every single one was ditched in the end, most of them because they felt somewhat “strange” on his tongue, or so he told her.

Every single one? No, there was one name that passed the test.

“I think I have a winner,” he suddenly announced while they were driving towards Albany, a local radio station providing some musical background.

“Yeah?” Maria asked. “That’s great! So, who’s the winner?”

“James, or Jimmy,” he replied. “I have no real preference which one, honestly.”

“But…?” Maria prompted.

“But something keeps nagging at my brain that this name means more to me than it being just a temporary workaround.”

“Just take your time, James. Whatever happened to your brain, it needs that time to try and repair the damage. I’ve never dealt with amnesiacs before, but from what I remember from my biology and psychology classes, you can’t rush things like that. There’s too much danger to make it worse and irreparable instead.”

“Oh, I will give it as long as it needs,” James gave back. “I only know one thing, and that is finding redemption and making amends for any bad things I’ve ever done.”

*********************

The End

*********************


End file.
